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The door clicked shut behind her. Mandy froze for a moment. It still felt strange to come in this way. She was used to the window, landing lightly on the balcony.
She let herself drop onto the stool; the red velvet cushion sank under the weight of her exhaustion. She couldn’t remember ever feeling like this. Her ankles throbbed, her feet burned. She didn’t even have the energy to take off her jacket.
Beef was the first to arrive. He nudged his head under her hand, looking for a pet. She gave him one—barely. A light, almost empty gesture.
Then Robert appeared. He still had on his work shirt, unbuttoned just enough to show the scars she was learning to recognize. He knelt in front of her without a word and took her ankles in his hands, as if the gesture were as natural as breathing.
He unfastened her shoes slowly, and Mandy felt relief spread upward, warm and steady, rising from her toes. She closed her eyes for a moment, letting the sensation move through her.
She didn’t feel like dressing up, or going out. She didn’t want to pretend she had energy she didn’t have. Not with him.
All she wanted was to sleep for a whole night. Or a hundred.
When she opened her eyes again, Robert was still there, bent over her, and a wave of guilt rose in her throat. They had planned this second date for weeks, and they had already postponed it twice.
He was busy with the Z‑Team, hunting down the last stragglers of the Red Ring. She was trying to keep what was left of the Torrance branch standing, while explaining to headquarters why Blonde Blazer wasn’t around anymore.
And then there was Chase. And everything else.
“Ugh,” she muttered as Robert loosened the other buckle. “I hate complaining,” she murmured, almost ashamed.
He massaged her ankle with his thumb—slow, measured. Mandy sighed. “Thank you.”
Robert looked up at her and smiled. “Get used to it.”
She shook her head slightly. “But I would have done so much work as Blonde Blazer.”
He paused for a moment, as if choosing his words. When he spoke, his voice had that calm Mandy had learned to listen to in the field.
“Don’t worry. It’s a Normie thing. We get tired and we complain… but we always keep going.”
He set her shoes aside. Mandy followed them with her eyes, and her voice darkened. “Sometimes it feels like I’ve even forgotten how to walk.”
“Put one foot in front of the other,” he said. “You’ll get there.”
She inhaled slowly. “Robert… I know we were supposed to go out tonight…”
“But you don’t feel like it,” he finished, without a hint of reproach.
“You’re disappointed,” Mandy said. It wasn’t a question.
“Why would I be? Because my girlfriend is tired?”
Mandy’s heart skipped. “My…?” Heat rose to her cheeks. “So I’m your girlfriend?”
“Oops.” Robert lowered his gaze, blushing as well. “I should’ve waited for the date. But yes. If you want.”
Mandy went quiet for a moment, letting the past few weeks flicker through her mind: Robert’s house, destroyed in the riots. The housewarming party they’d thrown before everything fell apart. The couch she’d given him as a gift. That sudden thought — bring it home — that had felt like a sign from the universe. And then the cohabitation, born almost by accident, yet so natural.
She realized that everything had happened fast. But nothing had felt forced.
It had simply happened.
Like certain things you don’t need to push. They happen on their own, when it’s time.
Robert stroked her calf gently, bringing her back to the present. “Go take a shower,” he said, his voice soft enough to wrap around her. “I’ll call the restaurant. I’ll ask if they can send us something while I cancel the reservation.”
Mandy nodded, but stayed seated for another moment, as if her body hadn’t received the command.
Robert watched her with a half‑smile, the one he used when he wanted to encourage her without actually pushing. “I promise I’m not running away,” he added, standing up.
She let out a tired laugh. “I wouldn’t even have the strength to chase you.”
“I know.” He brushed her cheek with the back of his hand, a quick, almost shy gesture. “And that’s why I’m taking the chance to stay a little closer.”
Mandy stood up slowly. Her legs protested, but the shower suddenly felt like something she could manage.
As she walked toward the bathroom, she heard Robert on the phone, using that gentle voice he reserved for strangers when he wanted something without sounding insistent.
“Yes, I understand… would it be possible to prepare two takeout portions?… No, nothing complicated… whatever you already have is fine… Thank you, really.”
The sound of his voice followed her down the hallway, soft as a blanket.
Mandy stopped at the bathroom doorway, resting her forehead against the frame. It was strange how easy it was to let him take care of her.
Strange, and a little frightening.
Strange, and beautiful.
She turned on the shower. Steam began to rise, slow and warm, like a promise of relief. She heard Robert’s voice coming from the half‑open door.
“Hey, Mandy?”
“Mmh?”
“Nothing. Just… take your time. Blonde Blazer always had to be perfect. Mandy, on the other hand, has every right to be tired.”
She closed her eyes. And for the first time in days, she allowed herself to be.
She turned off the water and let the droplets slide down her skin like a warm cloak.
She dried herself without rushing, and every gesture made her feel a little more like herself.
When she finally slipped into a loose T‑shirt and soft pants, the scent of clean laundry gave her a peace she hadn’t felt in days.
She opened the door, and the cooler air of the hallway brushed against her still‑warm skin.
That’s when she heard it: the rustle of a tablecloth, the metallic clink of cutlery…
The sound of home, she caught herself thinking.
She felt drawn to those sounds, instinctively. They gave her a serenity she couldn’t remember ever feeling in her own house.
She took a few steps toward the living room, her bare feet gliding lightly over the parquet.
Each step brought her closer to that small domestic noise, to a kind of normality she hadn’t known she wanted until she found it.
Robert had dimmed the lights.
He had set out two plates, two glasses, two sets of cutlery, and a small candle that made the whole scene feel almost dreamlike.
Mandy leaned silently against the doorframe.
Robert hadn’t seen her yet, and she wanted that image to settle clearly in her memory.
“Woah. You fancy,” she said at last, mimicking his voice.
He turned, surprised for a moment, then smiled.
“It’s all Michelin star when you’re on a date with me,” he replied, imitating her tone in return.
“Oh, so it is a date?” she said, as Robert pulled out her chair.
“If you think it is, it is,” he said, sitting down across from her.
They burst out laughing together, remembering that strange evening in the office courtyard.
It felt like a lifetime ago.
“You know… we never really had the chance to talk, you and I. About what happened. About us.”
Robert poked at his food with his fork, as if searching for the right words.
“When I met you… you pulled me out of an abyss I didn’t even realize I’d fallen into. If you hadn’t been there, I don’t know where I’d have ended up.”
Mandy looked at him with her big blue eyes.
“Robert, you said it yourself earlier. You would’ve put one foot in front of the other, you would’ve gotten tired, complained… but you would’ve kept going. And eventually you would’ve made it out.”
“Maybe you’re right,” he murmured, lowering his gaze. “But I’m not sure I would’ve liked the place I ended up as much as this one. Here… I like it.”
Mandy lowered her eyes to her plate, as if his words had touched something she hadn’t yet dared to name.
“I like it too,” she said softly. “More than I expected. And… I don’t know if I would’ve gotten here on my own.”
She lifted her gaze, a faint smile at the corners of her mouth.
“Maybe we pulled each other out of places we didn’t want to be.”
Robert stayed silent for a moment, then his voice dropped.
“Mandy… you did everything on your own. I just waited for you.”
“I may have done it on my own, but you were there.”
Mandy set her cutlery down on her now‑empty plate.
“That night at Crypto Night, you made me feel like myself. I didn’t have to pretend to be Blonde Blazer, didn’t have to perform anything. And that…” She paused, letting the thought form. “That’s when I realized what I really wanted. Not just to be Blonde Blazer, but to be myself.”
Robert smiled at her and stood to clear the plates.
“Good thing we found each other, then.”
As he walked to the kitchen with the dirty dishes, Mandy leaned back in her chair, a satisfied expression on her face.
“You know… maybe it was good we didn’t go out. We needed this. Just the two of us, with nothing around.”
Robert came back from the kitchen, drying his hands on a dish towel.
He paused to look at her, then nodded toward the living room.
“Come,” he said softly. “Let’s sit for a bit.”
Mandy nodded and followed him.
They settled onto the couch Robert had brought from his old place—the only thing he’d managed to save after the riots.
It had survived miraculously intact, just like the day she’d given it to him.
A piece of life that had made it through the chaos.
Mandy ran a hand over the fabric without thinking.
“I don’t know how it made it through all that,” she murmured.
“It survived because it came from you,” he said, with a sweetness he didn’t bother to hide. “I… didn’t have anything of my own.”
They sat close—not too close, but close enough to feel each other’s warmth.
Robert inhaled slowly, as if choosing his words.
“About what slipped out earlier…” he said. “I don’t want to pressure you. It’s just that… when I see you here, like this… it feels natural to think we’re already something. And I’d like it to be official. If you’re okay with that.”
Mandy looked at him for a moment, as if assembling all the pieces of what they’d just said.
“You know… maybe we already are,” she murmured. “We’re just saying it out loud.”
Robert smiled, and Mandy felt him truly relax for the first time.
They leaned back together, side by side.
For a moment they stayed like that, in silence, wrapped in the warm light of the lamp and the lingering scent of dinner.
Then Mandy grew serious, her voice taking on that firm tone she used at the office.
“There’s just one thing… We work together. At SDN it’s not exactly… simple.”
Robert nodded, still smiling.
“I know. And I don’t want it to become a problem for you. We’ll tell HR. Together.”
Mandy breathed in slowly, as if his words had loosened a knot she didn’t know she had.
She let herself sink a little deeper into the backrest, feeling her body finally unwind.
Beside her, Robert shifted slightly. Not a deliberate gesture—just adjusting his position—but Mandy felt it as an approach. An intention more than a movement.
He rested his arm along the back of the couch, leaving space for her.
Mandy filled it without thinking too much, leaning into his shoulder.
The fabric of his shirt was still warm from the kitchen, and that warmth made her smile before she could stop herself.
The couch gave a small creak.
“It’s strange,” she murmured. “It feels… normal.”
“It is,” he said, with a simplicity that made her relax even more.
They stayed like that, close, without adding anything else.
The warm light of the lamp, the scent of dinner still in the air, the quiet of the room: everything seemed to align, as if that moment were already home.